


Flight

by ffoulkes_no



Series: Flight/Collapse [1]
Category: The Dresden Files (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 20:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15056756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffoulkes_no/pseuds/ffoulkes_no
Summary: Hrothbert and Winifred evade a party of Wardens.





	Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LJ's dresdenfic community in 2009.
> 
> Part of an abandonned attempt at a fic.

That ass, Arth, was quite clever, Hrothbert decided. Or, perhaps, singularly lucky. The two sorcerers had covered considerable ground in the past week, weaving between the mortal world and the Nevernever, and stopping only once -- when Winifred's mare had fallen to exhaustion. Hrothbert's sturdy carthorse carried them both. But soon even the gelding would tire and they would have to face their pursuers.  
  
And in the valley below, as if on cue, Hrothbert watched the three Wardens walk through a rip in existence. One tall and broad, one lanky, the other quite average and plain. Arth, the tallest, was the trainee, apprenticing to his more experienced companions. He was also a far better tracker than Hrothbert had given him credit for. A week of running, criss-crossing the isles and the land beyond, and the wizardling had met them within a few dozen yards!  
  
Hrothbert's chest tightened and he felt his face redden. He had used every bit of magic at his disposal, and yet the Wardens had found them. Had their flight been for nothing?  
  
Winifred had sensed the bubbling anger, for she laid a hand upon his arm, "We should move on."  
  
Hrothbert whirled, snarling, driven by a need to vent the frustration of a week's wasted evasion. "And then?" He demanded, pulling his arm away, "Will we run for another week? A month? _A year_? Until we have crossed every inch of these lands?" His voice was a low hiss, "Until we have run ourselves down to nothing? Until we are less than we already are, for running like dogs, for not turning to fight? And _then_ , my lady?"  
  
"And _then_ ," Winifred said, her stern voice that of someone used to dealing with a petulant child, "we will have figured a way out of this situation. One that saves us bloodshed."  
  
"His blood," Hrothbert offered.  
  
Winifred's shrug was barely perceptible beneath her thick cloak, "I would not have him killed, my lord, if it is possible."  
  
His anger abated for the moment, Hrothbert chewed on his lip, thoughtfully, and looked again at the Wardens below them. Arth had found the gelding's trail, for he was feeling about in the grass, judging the wear on the hoofprints. The other Wardens were cleaning their swords.  
  
Less than a year ago, a similar chase would have brought joy and excitement to Hrothbert's heart. He and Winifred were powerful and proud and such evasion was simply a game that both sorcerers and Wardens had played together. The sorcerers' magic was never wholly Black, but many of their spells were dark enough to cause the Wardens grief. The Council saw them as troublemakers, and the couple was all to happy to feed that perception.  
  
But that had been before the duel, before Arth's honorless Commander had--  
  
Winifred's hand tightened on his shoulder, "Come."  
  
Hrothbert stood, took one last look at their pursuers, then turned to follow Winifred up the hill.


End file.
